


Mile High Club

by FollyOfWinchester



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But what do you want?, Dubious Consent, HP: EWE, Hand Jobs, Hogwarts Professors, I wrote it on a goddamn plane!, Kissing, Lust Potion/Spell, M/M, Not My Best Work..., Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Potions Accident, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:29:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5938645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FollyOfWinchester/pseuds/FollyOfWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco, Hermione, and Harry grade a 6th year project together.*</p><p>*The plot of this fic has nothing to do with planes or having sex on them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mile High Club

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I sort of dreamed this and then I ended up writing it on the back of a couple of boarding passes while flying from one North American coast to the other over three separate flights. I've never explicitly written a Sex Pollen fic, and I feel like it came out kind of feely, so sorry if it's not what you were expecting. I'm not so experienced with Dub Con, but how could I not post a fic that I wrote in such an absurd way?

Draco looks across the table at one of his unlikely evening companions for perhaps the fifteenth time in so many minutes. Considering not even four years prior they had been the most vicious of foes, their budding quasi-friendship seems more than a little impossible. At the moment, it feels exceedingly odd to be sat marking up a joint Potions/Muggle Studies/Defense of the Dark Arts project with none other than Hermione Granger. Before he can look back to his work, Hermione catches his glance and smiles politely at him. He manages a pensive crinkle of his brow and a nod before breaking his gaze away. Yes, exceedingly odd indeed.

The project had been a joint effort between himself and Hermione, with some limited input from--Draco can't help but shake his head slightly in his ever-present disbelief--Harry "Scarhead" "Chosen One" Potter. They'd all three been drafted as part-time, emergency professors in the year following the Dark Lord's fall, after the rebuilding of Hogwarts, Draco's trial and subsequent parole period, Harry's short-lived attempt at playing Auror, and Hermione's journey to restore her parents' lost memories. Gradually, eventually, and with little fanfare, the "part-time" and "emergency" had been dropped and they had become more or less resigned to their fates.

And now here they were as some professorial facsimile of the Golden Trio--how Draco loathed to think he shared anything in common with a _Weasley_ \--amiably working together for the benefit of their students. He shakes his head again and lets a smile tug at one corner of his mouth. It had been a few months back after their first O.W.L.s as "full" professors that had done them in, really. Draco leans his chin on the top of one hand and takes a moment to reminisce.

_The night turned morning before they, along with the other professors and judges, were finished discussing and deliberating each students' fate in every possible category. Draco hung back as the deliberation room cleared, hoping to snatch a few moments of peace to collect his thoughts before traveling back to his office. It had been a lot to take in, because the O.W.L.s represented a definitive moment in his childhood, one of the last before the final shreds of his innocence were stripped away. As he was picking up to leave, he noticed that Hermione and Harry, still "Granger" and "Potter" to Draco at the time, had also lagged behind._

_Draco hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but in an otherwise empty room it was rather difficult not to. "That was us," he heard Hermione choke out through soft sobs, "before everything. We were just students, but we never really_ were _just students, were we?"_

_The utterance had struck through him like a searing hot poker. His eyes stung and before he could really even think about what he was doing, he had stepped up to the pair and laid his hand on Hermione's shoulder. Just as her questioning gaze fell upon his face, he felt a tear descend his cheek, to which Hermione responded by wailing even more loudly and burying her head in her hands._

_"Come on." Harry's voice had sounded somehow tentative and confident at the same time, and Draco let himself be guided by Harry's hand between his shoulder blades out to the edge of the lake with Hermione walking and hiccoughing next to him. What ensued was probably the most memorable sunrise of his entire life. As they sat shoulder to shoulder overlooking the still surface of the water, Harry had Summoned a bottle of Firewhisky and three teacups. At first they drank in silence, but little by little they each offered of themselves. They spoke about everything: their triumphs, their sins, how utterly retched they had been to one another, and how they each regretted so many things. What had seemed as calculated tactical moves to Draco at the time Harry called "mistakes" and Hermione called "miserable." After just over half the bottle of Firewhisky, Draco finally saw the whole truth of it._

_They were all just children, they had all made mistakes, and they had all done the best that they could given the circumstances._

_By the time the bottle was empty and the sun had tinted the sky a subtle fuchsia, Harry was proudly proclaiming that he was glad he was single because he was a strong, independent man who didn't need no Ginny, Hermione was lamenting the size of Weasley's penis while asserting that she was still planning to propose to him anyway, and Draco was laughing hysterically at the both of them._

_They'd never used one another's last names again._

A sunbaked arm invades his personal space and the thunk of another small vial on the table in front of him wakes him from his recollections.

"The court jester was not struck dead by the contents of this draught, Your Majesty. I, your most humble captain of the guard, have deemed it safe for your consumption."

Draco has to hold back a grin at the exaggerated snobbishness of Harry's voice, "Yes, yes. All right. That quip was slightly amusing the first time, but what is it now, Hermione? Six? Seven?"

"I think he's pushing 10."

Harry huffs out a sigh, "You're both the absolute least fun when you're working. Can't even spare a thought to having a laugh--"

Draco composes his face into its most regal expression and clears his throat loudly, "Captain Potter, I should think you have rather more pressing matters to attend to than the amusement of your king," he taps his cheek with his index finger, "such as guarding my safety with your very life, perhaps? Back to your duties, then. Dismissed!"

"At once, My Liege," Harry makes a sweeping bow and hurries backward out of the room with his head still slightly bowed and a smirk on his face.

"You're only encouraging him. He'll just keep it up when you give him material like that!" Hermione gives Draco a wry smile.

Draco just shrugs in response and Hermione shakes her head. He would never admit it out loud, ever, to _anyone_ , but hearing of Harry's split with Ginny had left Draco with a growing infatuation with him. Yes, of course he had been rather obsessed with Harry for quite some time, but so had He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and he was almost sure that the bald living nightmare had never taken pleasure in making Harry smile...or in watching him fly shirtless after the Snitch to occupy his free time. Knowing that after everything that had happened between them, he and Harry could wind each other up and playfully taunt one another was more than he had ever expected. Of course, he'd imagined quite a bit more at this point, and as his mind starts to wander to one of his secret viewings of Harry's lithe form soaring above the Quidditch pitch on a clear day, the wind rushing through his hair and the sun kissing his cheeks, Draco quickly takes up the potion in front of him and attempts to refocus on work.

Their call to the 6th year students for the project had been simple: design a potion that could be used to harmlessly disable an attacker in the presence of Muggles without alerting them to the existence of magic. Hermione was marking the documentation, Harry was using his Auror experience to check that the contents of the potions were indeed harmless, and Draco was marking the resulting "safe" potions for their effectiveness and inconspicuousness. As Draco slides Harry's most recent drop off into the queue with the others, he notices something rather off about it. The label reads "Haverford - Baxter - Kim, Instant Friendliness Potion," but the color reads... Well, Draco isn't altogether sure.

"Hermione, can you find me Haverford, Baxter, and Kim's report? Something's a bit strange and I'd like to read the ingredient list once more."

Hermione's eyes shoot to the potion and then her fingers move to sort through the pile of parchment on her side of the desk, "Ah, just here. 'Instant Friendliness Potion,' yeah?"

"That's the one." Draco reaches across and quickly skims the ingredient list and preparation steps. _Hm. Nothing particularly noteworthy, but it should definitely be more salmon than chartreuse._ He releases the parchment and Hermione arranges it back into the pile.

"So, anything to worry about? Do we need to throw up a few shield charms out of caution?" Hermione sets down her quill and unsheathes her wand, "Harry? Can you come in here?"

Admittedly, one of the other projects had exploded on Harry, but this one had made it through with Harry's approval. Draco begins to protest, "I'm sure it's nothing. I just might need to uncork it to check, rather than analyzing through the glass."

Just as the stopper pops from its moorings, Harry rushes into the room, bumping Draco's chair in the process and causing him to splash the contents of the vial all over his face and down the front of his robes, "Yeah, Hermione? What's happened?"

Thoroughly put out, Draco moves to stand and begins brushing the liquid from himself, "You've ruined a perfectly fine set of robes is what's happened! Honestly! And what if it had been--" Draco looks up from his chest to find that both Harry and Hermione have rounded on him and are standing awkwardly, uncomfortably, _alarmingly_ close at his sides. He swallows audibly and looks between them, "--dangerous?"

Harry leans in even closer and Draco attempts to step back, but he's prevented from it as Harry's arm winds around his hip, "You're right. How clumsy of me," Harry purrs into Draco's ear, "Looks like you'll just have to," Harry's voice drops to a whisper as he nuzzles against the side of Draco's neck, "take them off."

"What?!" Draco can feel the color drain from his face. _What. Is. Happening?!_ Before he can collect himself to react properly, Hermione is right there with Harry. She runs her hand down the front of his robe and sighs appreciatively, "Oh, most definitely. As you say, it's far to risky to leave them on now," her hand moves even lower, "and I've always been curious if you're just as pale _everywhere_."

 _What has that potion done?!_ Draco gives a high-pitched yelp as Hermione cups him through his robes and he attempts to squirm free from the pair, but it's no use. Harry's surprisingly strong arm tightens around his waist and he can feel Harry's lips move against the sensitive skin just below his ear. He shivers at the attention and even more so as Harry's voice rumbles through him, "Mm, yeah, I bet your thin," a nibble at his earlobe, "taut body is just as gorgeous as your milky white face."

Every fiber of etiquette and social convention in Draco screams for him to pull away, but at the same time every square inch of his skin aches for him to stay put. No one has dared touch him like this since around the time the Dark Mark was seared into his arm by a wand of yew and phoenix feather. After all, the effects of a student-made potion would likely be short-lived, so why not lose himself to a bit of snogging in the meantime? Before he can manage another coherent thought, Hermione is unbuttoning his outermost layers and Harry is practically growling more sweet nothings into his ear, "Merlin, you smell amazing, just like I always imagined you would." And he's lost to it as his jaw is caught in Harry's firm grip. There was no way he could ignore the fulfilled longing to hear those words from Harry's mouth. _I've imagined, too._

Draco lets out a moan as Hermione pulls his robes open to suck at his collarbone and Harry captures his mouth in a searing kiss. He'd imagined it countless times, what kissing Harry would be like, but no amount of daydreaming had prepared him for the actual feeling of Harry nipping at his lower lip and moaning into his mouth as their tongues meet for the first time. Although the circumstances are less than ideal, his heart sings at the sound of his name on Harry's lips. His euphoria is fleeting, however. Suddenly, he feels Hermione's fingers trailing down under the layers of fabric still hanging around his hips and he panics.

A sound kissing from Harry or no, the situation was rapidly traveling toward a point of no return. Draco has actually grown to _like_ Hermione. He enjoys their friendship. Her Muggle blood doesn't stop her from being as cunning and calculating as any Slytherin he knows. And she's engaged, to someone well below her station, certainly, but still. While she could laugh off a bit of snogging and groping, in a moment they would be in a "no eye contact for the rest of our lives" sort of place. Draco pushes frantically against Harry's chest with one hand and attempts to grab Hermione's precariously wandering arm with the other, but Harry holds him fast and Hermione shushes into his ear in what he assumes she means to be a soothing manner despite the lack of effect.

To Draco's incredible relief, just as Hermione's fingers are slipping under the waistband of his silken undergarments, she gasps and pulls away. She locks eyes with Draco and he can see the chagrin behind them. It's wearing off. Whatever that potion had done, it's thankfully about to be over. As Hermione rushes from the room, Harry pulls him back in for another kiss and another decidedly different wave of panic hits Draco.

 _This is it. The potion will wear off at any moment and I'll will never feel his lips on mine again._ Draco has to make their last kiss so memorable that he won't ever need another. With a surge of adrenaline, he twists in Harry's arms to press their bodies flush and shoves his hands into Harry's mane of eternally disheveled hair. "Just once more," he pants more to himself than Harry as he takes control of the kiss and grinds their hips together. Even through Harry's denims and his own slightly askew robes, Draco can feel that Harry is just as aroused as he is and he can't help but groan Harry's name at the thought. If only it were real and not some ridiculous potion accident. If only--

Harry breaks the kiss and pulls away as far as Draco's hands in his hair will allow. _That's it. Never again._ And in that moment Draco knows he's lost, because if it was hard to pine from afar before, it would be ten-thousand times more difficult now. He'll have to stay well away from Harry, to leave Hogwarts and the almost decent life he was carving out for himself here. He can feel his throat tightening and his eyes stinging at the corners. Damn that Haverford and his idiotic Hufflepuff potion! Draco lets go of Harry and looks up to keep the tears welling in his eyes from spilling past their precarious equilibrium on his lower lids.

"Draco?"

Not trusting his voice to come out even, Draco remains silent and with his eyes firmly affixed to the ceiling. He considers leaving, but he's not sure if he can manage to walk away without falling to his knees and sobbing uncontrollably.

Harry plows on without him anyway, "Draco, was all of that-- Was it all the potion? Even after Hermione left?"

Draco spares a glance in Harry's direction. He looks nervous. And confused.

"Even after you said, 'Just once more'?"

Draco doesn't know what to say, or really what Harry is asking, but a strange hope blossoms in his chest. Maybe he's trying to decide whether or not to deck him, but maybe... He looks Harry directly in the eye and gives a minute shake of his head.

"So, then..." Harry takes a step back toward Draco and raises a hand to cup his cheek.

Draco startles at the touch and Harry pauses there as if to say, "Pull away if this isn't what you want," but Draco doesn't move. He probably couldn't have even if he'd wanted to, as astounded as he is by the evening's events thus far.

Harry takes another step in and wraps his other arm around Draco's back, pulling them back flush against one another and sliding his hand up into Draco's hair, "Yeah?"

And Draco's back to panting. He swallows audibly and manages to nod his head just once.

"God, Draco," Harry crushes their lips together and Draco moans at the renewed sensation. He faintly wonders if he hasn't fallen asleep whilst marking and this is simply one of his many Harry-themed erotic dreams. Before Draco can even really reciprocate properly, Harry breaks the kiss. 

Draco gathers himself to object, but Harry sucking at the base of his throat transforms the complaint into another deep moan. He wraps his arms around Harry's back and up under his threadbare T-shirt. He wants to see that bare chest up close and in person, rather than from under the stands as a distant blur.

Harry releases the suction on Draco's neck and shakes his head, "Wait, 'Mione'll come back any minute for the reports. She'll be much more concerned with doing a proper job on them than feeling a bit awkward in front of you, I'm sure. Come on."

Draco lets himself be led into the side-room where Harry had been testing potions minutes prior. As soon as they shut the door, Draco pounces, rucking Harry's shirt off over his head. He runs a hand down the newly exposed flesh and hums in appreciation.

"Bit better than watching me out on the pitch, is it?"

Mortification grips Draco, "You've seen me?!" He wonders vaguely if Harry has been privy to any of the times he'd tossed off in addition to watching.

"Why do you think I started taking my shirt off to fly? I mean, I wasn't sure, but I had a hunch. And you definitely seemed to...erm...well..." Harry motions indelicately toward Draco's groin, "enjoy it."

Draco covers his face with his palm and Harry laughs, but they both go silent when they hear the door to the other room creak open. When Hermione calling their names comes muffled through the door, Draco looks at Harry and he mouths, "Told you." 

Once they hear the door shut again, Harry slides his hands down Draco's chest and to the buttons still holding his robes closed at the bottom. As the fog of embarrassment clears from Draco's mind, he has an odd thought. He tilts Harry's chin back up from this work, "So, if you saw me, if you knew, why didn't you say anything?"

Harry shrugs and looks back down, perhaps distracting himself by flicking each button from its elaborate clasp, "I guess I wasn't sure is all. It could have just been a game for you, like, 'How can I take the piss out of Potter now that we're on a first name basis?' Or some sort of fetish that had nothing to do with me. I just, I mean, Draco, I thought you absolutely _loathed_ me for so long. Seemed a bit outlandish to consider you might be out there wanking because you _fancied_ me, of all things."

With the last of the buttons undone and Draco's robes hanging agape from his shoulders, Harry rises to slide them the rest of the way off, but Draco grabs his wrists and shakes his head. Just because a scar fades doesn't mean it isn't there and he's not ready to see Harry's face when he first lays eyes on the Dark Mark. Harry seems to get the message and wraps his arms around Draco's neck instead, "What about you? Why didn't _you_ say anything?"

"I suppose I thought," Draco pauses a moment in order to choose his words carefully, "what could someone like me possible have to offer someone like you?"

Harry's face grows earnest, "Remember when I saw you crying and I cut you open? I never told anyone, but later that night I thought a lot about it. It started off as just imagining the duel going differently, not making you bleed, maybe just knocking you around a bit, but then it got into tying you up, grabbing you...kissing you, and I tossed off to it in the shower. And then I did it again. And again. Sometimes I wouldn't be able to wait for the dorm and I'd do it while I was stalking you about the castle. I couldn't help myself. I knew you were a Death Eater," Draco flinches at the term reflexively, but Harry runs his hand up into Draco's hair and continues, "I knew I shouldn't think of you as anything more than my enemy, but anyone who cries like that, anyone who could pretend not to recognize me to save my life, anyone who could survive it all and come out the other end as a professor at Hogwarts has got to have _something_ to offer."

At that, Draco rushes Harry up against the nearest wall and kisses him again and again while running his hands over Harry's exposed chest and sighing his name softly between every kiss. How could anyone see anything in him after all that he had done, and yet here was the one and only Harry Potter extolling his virtues as though they were numerous and noteworthy. Harry bucks as Draco grazes one of his nipples and Draco's silk briefs are abruptly sent to his ankles just after. He throws his head back with a groan as Harry wraps his cock in a fist and starts stroking. Not wanting to be outdone, Draco gathers what little concentration he has available to unzip Harry's denims and shove them down his hips so that he can return the favor.

As their hands move between them, Harry pulls Draco in with his other arm and braces his forehead against Draco's own. "Mm, wanted you. Wanted this," he moans out and his hot breath breaks over Draco's lips. Draco can feel both their cocks throbbing, Harry's through his palm and his in Harry's fist. It feels incredible. It feels impossible. The instant that Harry returns to sucking at the base of his throat, Draco cries out and spills over Harry's fingers with a satisfied sob. He's glad there's the wall to brace against, because his knees go weak and he has to throw out a hand to catch himself on the rough stones behind them. 

After a moment to recover, Draco remembers what he's doing and who he's doing it with. He looks up to find Harry licking at his dripping fingers. As their eyes meet Harry slides one finger into his mouth and makes a show of hollowing his cheeks as he pulls it slowly back out. "Fuck, Harry," Draco groans as he watches and then attempts to drop to his knees, but Harry catches him and pulls him back up.

Draco opens his mouth to ask why and Harry covers it with his own. He can taste himself on Harry's lips and the idea of it has him half-hard again. Harry grabs his wrist and encourages his fingers to return to their previous activities. As soon as Draco begins stroking along the velvety skin of Harry's cock again, Harry moans and practically sucks Draco's tongue out of his mouth. Draco feels dizzy from the kiss and his movements stutter as Harry slips his hands under Draco's robes to cup his bare arse. Harry pulls him closer and starts to buck up into his fist as he continues to stroke and all he can think about is how it would feel for Harry's cock to be thrusting into him, filling him up. Without thinking, Draco breaks the kiss to pant out, "Yes, fuck me, Potter."

"Fuck, Draco, that's--" Harry groans as his thrusts grow more erratic and Draco feels the warmth of his release as it spatters across his stomach. Harry leans his forehead against Draco's shoulder, "Merlin, that. Was. Amazing. And you calling me 'Potter' like that--" 

Draco smirks, "Oh, so it's me who has the fetish, is it?"

"All right, I'll admit it. It might be a bit hot to think it's Malfoy the absolute _bastard_ who wants me to fuck him," Harry laughs and lifts his head back up, "Okay, now I've _really_ ruined those robes."

"Since your ghastly shirt came pre-ruined I suppose it's only fair. Now we match."

Harry laughs again as he picks up his T-shirt off the floor, but then his face grows somber, "We are-- We're doing this again, aren't we?"

Draco rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, "What do you think?" When Harry's face remains uncertain, Draco shoves him and waves his arms to emphasize the point, "Of course, you bloody prat!"

~*~

"So, have you decided yet? You've graded all the rest." Hermione shoots him an amused look across the desk.

Harry can be heard chuckling from where he stands tidying his station.

"Well, I'm still between Dreadful, because it's been brewed improperly and causes everyone in the area, including _you_ , to thoroughly ravish your foe, and Exceeds Expectations because--"

Harry snorts from the other room.

"Well, because I'm feeling generous and--"

"And you've gotten a proper rodgering out of it?"

Harry's laughter goes silent and Draco stares wide-eyed at Hermione, "I-- What are you implying? I haven't--"

"Shutting the door was just a ruse. I didn't leave the room right away. Stayed long enough to make sure you were both alive and got quite an earful in the process."

Draco blinks several times in complete shock.

"I'll just mark Haverford's team down for an 'E' then, shall I?"


End file.
